


Gentle Wings

by the_pen_is_mightier



Series: Freed to Touch [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, M/M, They love each other, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Touching, Wing cuddles, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:55:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21514138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_pen_is_mightier/pseuds/the_pen_is_mightier
Summary: “I never see your wings anymore. I saw them when I stopped time, when we were with Adam, and…” Crowley smiled, the look one of growing, disbelieving happiness. “They’re beautiful. I forget how beautiful you are.”
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Freed to Touch [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550617
Comments: 27
Kudos: 244





	Gentle Wings

“Will you show me your wings?” asked Crowley. 

Aziraphale flushed, just slightly, at the words. Crowley was leaned far forward in his chair, and his eyes were wide and liquid and tender in that way Aziraphale was still struggling desperately to get used to - all unbridled now, all free, without sunglasses, without barriers, without sides. Aziraphale thought he was going to drown every time they turned on him. 

“What for?” Aziraphale asked.

“I never see them anymore. I saw them when I stopped time, when we were with Adam, and…” Crowley smiled, the look one of growing, disbelieving happiness. “They’re beautiful. I forget how beautiful you are.” 

“You flatter me often enough,” said Aziraphale, blushing deeper.

Crowley rose from his chair as though unable to stop himself. He closed in on Aziraphale, cupping his cheek, lips pressing softly against Aziraphale’s, gently, but with all the liquid devotion of his eyes. 

“Not enough,” he muttered when they broke apart, Aziraphale feeling dazed. “Not near enough, angel.” 

It was a declaration of trust, these days, showing your wings. Six thousand years of war, of concealment to human beings, had caused most angels and demons to hide them. But Aziraphale wasn’t afraid as he slid out of his chair, down onto the floor to give himself room. He trusted Crowley utterly, infinitely; he felt safer in Crowley’s hands than his own. He shut his eyes as he shook his great white wings free from the ethereal plane. 

Crowley let out a soft gasp as Aziraphale’s wings settled into being. Not of surprise but of wonder, of awe. Aziraphale smiled slightly. His eyes were still closed. In another moment he felt those thin, uncertain fingers brushing ever-so-gently over the right wing, reverent and soft. 

“I’ve wanted to touch them since Eden,” Crowley murmured. 

Aziraphale leaned back into Crowley’s touch, encouraging him to continue. He felt Crowley’s fingers, a little surer now, comb through the downy feathers, straightening them tenderly when he saw any crooked. Aziraphale sighed. The touch was soothing, relaxing; the sensation filled him as he sank, eyes still closed, into the gentle silence of Crowley’s touch and nothing more. 

“My love,” Aziraphale whispered. He had another part to that sentence, he had a million things he wanted to say to Crowley; but they were all lost as Crowley knelt at his back and stroked his feathers, pressing light, sweet kisses to the back of his neck, rubbing his shoulders and then running hands, softly, lovingly through his hair. 

“What is it?” Crowley asked, kissing Aziraphale’s shoulder blades. Aziraphale leaned back and rested himself, wings still spread, given completely to Crowley, against his chest. 

“My dearest,” he said again. “My dearest love.” 

“My angel.” Crowley stared down at Aziraphale, whose eyes had opened now to gaze up at Crowley’s face; they made eye contact for a moment, then Crowley leaned down to kiss his forehead. 

“Would you take out your wings, darling?” 

Crowley stroked Aziraphale’s chin, his jaw. “Aw, angel. They’re not as pretty as yours.” 

“I very much disagree.” 

Crowley rolled his eyes, feigning irritation, though Aziraphale could see the blush creeping high into his own thin cheeks. “Only for you.” 

A cascade of gentle black tumbled down from his shoulders like hair released from a binding; Aziraphale gazed pleadingly at Crowley, who could barely maintain an annoyed front as his wings arched up, stretched out, and then wrapped, slowly, tenderly around Aziraphale. 

Oh, it was warm here. Aziraphale’s eyes slid shut again. Crowley’s wings blocked out all light, and they were soft, an enormous, downy blanket that hid Aziraphale completely inside. Crowley’s wings were a protective shield between him and the rest of the world. They held him, cradling him close to Crowley’s chest, steadying him. These wings, the most vulnerable part of Crowley’s body, radiated so much gentle love that Aziraphale felt he was floating, buoyant through a bottomless sky. 

“May I?” Aziraphale asked, reaching up his own hand. 

Crowley’s face was invisible in this close, tender darkness, but Aziraphale felt the smile as Crowley kissed him again, then nuzzled his forehead into Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Please, angel.” 

Aziraphale ran his hands through Crowley’s wings, and he heard Crowley shiver with pleasure as he wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s waist. Aziraphale took one of Crowley’s hands and kissed it, then went back to stroking Crowley’s feathers, feeling the muscles tense and then relax under his adoring ministrations. The wings began to grow loose and heavy, folding over them both even more like a blanket. 

This was their world now. All of each other, completely and utterly and with overwhelming devotion. They lay close to each other there in the dark. They shared kiss after soft, gentle kiss, and tasted each other’s lips, and let their bodies melt together. Free.

**Author's Note:**

> Like my content? Find me on tumblr @[whatawriterwields](https://whatawriterwields.tumblr.com)!


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